Reckless Seduction

Before she could answer, she heard Nels call out to someone. “Jon Ecklund, where have you been? Come over here and join us.” Haley felt the hair prickle on the back of her neck.

“Nels Andersen, son of a gun, you’re a sight for sore ey… Well! Hello, at last.”

Haley knew who it was even before she looked up.

“Hello.” Was that dry quivering voice hers? Did they notice how it trembled?

“Have you two met?” Nels asked, rather tentatively.

“We have now,” Jon offered. “Who are you?” He looked at her intently.

“I’m Haley Feldon,” she said, extending her hand. He took it and held it, still looking at her. She felt the blood warm the skin of her face and experienced something that she had never felt before, a flash of warmth from head to foot, the heat settling in the pit of her loins. She hated that she had reacted to him that way. Withdrawing her hand, she took refuge in the lukewarm espresso. It was a mistake. Her hand shook as she raised the cup to her lips, and both men saw it.

“I’ve got exactly nine minutes to make an appointment on the twenty-second floor. It was a pleasant surprise seeing you, Nels. I wish I had more time. Perhaps we can get together for lunch one of these days. Goodbye, Mr. Ecklund.”

“Aren’t you implying that you aren’t pleased to have met me?” Jon asked, sardonically. He had the pleasure of seeing her speechless. But she quickly regained her composure, smiled rather lamely and hurriedly walked away.

“What on earth is going on between you two?” Nels wanted to know.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!”

“Is there anything I can do to help this ‘nothing’ along?” Nels asked. “You know I’m always willing to do anything I can for a college buddy.”

“No! If there’s anything I don’t need, Nels, it’s the kind of chaos you can create when you start your pranks. I’m not in the market for a woman. And if I was, I’d look for one a bit warmer than that porcelain Venus.”

Few people knew that second side of Nels’s personality, and most anyone would have had difficulty reconciling the boyish prankster with the suave, efficient journalist, the tough adversary that aptly characterized Nels Andersen.

Nels lifted his right shoulder in a careless shrug. “Well, at least you admit that she’s a goddess. Haley is a wonderful human being, but I thought I caught some sparks between you two.”

“Look, Nels, drop it! Just drop it, will you? A lot of things have happened since we last saw each other. My divorce is final. Karen has remarried, and I’m not looking for anybody.” No, he wasn’t looking, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want Haley Feldon. At least he wanted to get to know her, find out whether… What the hell did he want?

Nels watched Jon carefully. There was something different there. He was guarded, where he had always been so open, direct and straightforward. He wondered about Jon’s divorce. Well, he thought, Jon had always been somewhat reticent with women, though they sure as hell liked him. Maybe someday they’d be able to talk about it. Nels considered it for a moment. He had never given any thought to pranks with Jon where women were concerned. Somewhat bemused at his thoughts, he realized that he never would. For all his apparent toughness, Jon was too vulnerable.

“Look, man, I’m inviting some of the old gang over in a couple of weeks, after I get back from my assignment in Eastern Europe. As soon as I finalize my plans, you know…guest list and all that, I’ll call you. Will you come?”

“Sure,” Jon said, frowning slightly as he gave Nels his home phone number.

Nels rose and patted Jon on the shoulder. “Let’s stay in touch, buddy,” he said softly, giving Jon his number.

“By the way, Nels, why is it that you aren’t interested in Ms. Feldon?”

Nels laughed. “It’s Dr. Feldon. I knew her when she didn’t have all of that polish,” he said, cryptically.

“What ever do you mean?”

“Well, I covered Peace Corps activities in Africa and used to see her in Kenya. She was just an idealistic kid back then. She’s still idealistic.”

“Well, she’s certainly no kid now,” Jon drawled. “See you.”

Haley fastened her seat belt and prepared for the sixteen-hour flight to Nairobi. She was pleased with the contract that she had negotiated for IISP with Nedia and had spent the past ten days developing the material for the seminars and workshops that were intended to aid the improvement of women’s health in several East African countries. This was what she had dreamed of for her institute.

Owing to the negligence of one of her senior staff members, she’d been up until two in the morning completing preparations for her trip. She’d had enough of him and intended to fire him as soon as she found a replacement. Feeling immensely relieved for having come to that decision, she signaled the stewardess and asked for a cocktail, got out a novel by her favorite writer and settled down. It would be good to see Nairobi again after five years.

At about page twenty in the book, she realized that she’d only been looking at the words while seeing the face of Jon Ecklund. Sure, he’d made an impression on her. Every time she saw him, she’d become conscious of herself as a woman. Something about him drew her like a magnet draws a nail, and she didn’t find that soothing. She didn’t intend to give another man the power to make her need him and then to humiliate her. After four years, she was still tormented by that experience. No matter how elegant her appearance, how many admiring looks she received and how successful she was professionally, she had only to remember Joshua Hines and his bigoted parents to have her self-confidence shaken and her ego shattered.

Not even the fact that Jon Ecklund seemed attracted to her helped. After all, Josh had claimed to be crazy about her. But his parents—both of whom claimed to have ancestors who came to Plymouth, Massachusetts, on the Mayflower—didn’t want him with a black woman. And for all his seemingly tough exterior, Josh proved to be as spineless as a shrimp.

How could she have been such a fool? She wished to God that she had never seen Josh. And if she could, she’d put two continents between herself and Jon Ecklund.

He isn’t my problem, I am. He probably hasn’t given me another thought, she thought to herself and smiled.

Haley’s seatmate on the London-Nairobi leg of the trip was a distinguished-looking man about fifty years old. She attempted to discourage conversation with him, but he would not be denied. When he produced pictures of his family, on whom he clearly doted, she relaxed and became friendlier. Edgar Layton was a London-based entrepreneur, movie producer and sportsman who knew his way around East Africa and a good deal of the rest of the world. He and his family would be spending the winter at their home in Nairobi. When he learned of Haley’s mission, he assured her that she had only to call his Nairobi office and he would arrange for as much press coverage as she needed and introduce her to any official who could make her work easier.

Layton proved to be as good as his word. And when Haley’s local counterpart failed to keep the first day’s appointment, leaving her effectively stranded, she called him and, within an hour, was able to begin her work. He also invited her to dinner at his home the following evening.

She dressed for the dinner in pink silk slacks and a shirt of matching fabric and color. Layton had said that dining tended to be casual. She found there a very congenial group of expatriates, including Layton’s American-born wife, whom she liked immediately. But the surprise, and she wasn’t sure whether it was a welcome one, was meeting Ian MacKenlin, head of Ecklund International Syndicate’s regional bureau. Dear God. She was thousands of miles from him, but she hadn’t escaped him. When Ian learned of her project, he let her know at once that EIS was at her disposal for press and publicity. What would he say if he knew that she couldn’t get his boss out of her head?

Jon stopped by Ida’s Gourmet Takeout on First Avenue, bought his dinner and headed home. He wanted to catch the seven o’clock international news roundup on EIS TV. He set the containers of crab cakes, red potato salad with dill and sour cream and green beans with butter-almond sauce on his coffee table, opened a can of beer, kicked off his shoes and settled in for dinner and news. He couldn’t believe his eyes when Haley appeared on his screen, explaining the importance of diet, clean water, sanitation and prenatal care for pregnant women. He listened spellbound while she outlined a number of simple and inexpensive measures that would reduce the high risk of childbirth for East African women. And he learned that she would spend two weeks there training social and health workers.

Well, well, he thought, so Dr. Feldon knew her stuff. And she looked damned good on camera, too. She wore that shade of pink well, but to his taste that color was too virginal. The clip was short, but he supposed Ian gave her as much time as he could. He’d like to know more about her, and he made a mental note to call her office the next day.

Amy, Haley’s secretary, was too delighted to outline Haley’s mission for Jon. It didn’t escape him that, given the slightest bit of encouragement, she would have produced a litany of her boss’s virtues. As it was, she didn’t use much self-restraint, informing him that Haley was successful because she devoted all of her time to work and practically none to social life and relaxation. Jon wondered why she needed to tell him that. He respected intelligence and hard work in anybody, but he’d never admired workaholics. Somehow he didn’t think that Haley Feldon’s life was as unbalanced as her secretary’s description suggested. He didn’t question his pleasure at learning that Haley evidently wasn’t spending a lot of time with a man.

Nels paced the balcony of his river view apartment on the Upper East Side. Where were they? He’d gone to considerable inconvenience to arrange an opportunity for Jon and Haley to get together in circumstances more conducive to developing a friendship than chance encounters at the United Nations coffee shop. A glance at his watch told him that it was after nine o’clock. Both were usually good as their word. At last, the doorbell rang. He went to the door, opened it and he watched Haley enter. She looked great as usual. She had changed since they knew each other years earlier, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Was it polish or sadness?

“There you are,” he beamed. “Come over here. I want you to meet some friends.” He hadn’t meant for Art Chasen to be the first person she met there. Art was definitely not the man you introduced to your sister or to any woman you admired. He needn’t have worried. Haley appraised Art coolly, politely, but kept walking.

“I can see that you’ve grown up,” he told her with brotherly affection. “You couldn’t have dusted Art off more effectively if you had used a chamois.”

“Nels, I don’t play games with men. I want everything up front. It’s easier that way, and one is less likely to get hurt.”

“Someone hurt you, Haley?” Nels regarded her closely. Was he doing the right thing, getting these two wounded doves together?

“Let us just say that I have learned the value of caution,” she said.

“Caution about what?” Haley pivoted around at the sound of Jon’s voice. Why hadn’t she suspected that Nels would invite him? She wasn’t prepared for this. Why was she lying to herself? She was prepared for it. Hadn’t she changed dresses three times before settling on a figure-revealing burnt-orange silk shift, hoping that Jon would be there?

Neither she nor Nels answered.

“My, but you are elegant, as usual,” Jon added. “You’re very lovely tonight, Dr. Feldon.”

“Thank you, and please call me Haley. Dr. Feldon is so formal and seems out of place at the party of a mutual friend.”

“I’ll let you two get better acquainted,” Nels said and walked away. There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Will you call me Jon?”

Haley was startled by the question. Even so, she decided that she liked his voice. Deep and resonant, it befitted the big man that he was, and like the rest of him, it had nothing to spare… Crisp, with just a touch of lilt. He wore a dark gray suit, pale gray on gray silk shirt and a yellow tie almost the color of his hair. She looked at him. He stood no more than an inch taller than Nels, yet beside him, she felt small and feminine. Nels made her feel nothing but friendship.